


The Brightest Thing That Glitters

by blue_pointer



Series: A Glorious Retelling [41]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abduction, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Seduction, Canon Timeline, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Issues, Denizens of the Moonbrush, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: c01e060 Heredity and Hats, Exhaustion, Feywild Arc (Critical Role), Jealousy, Labyrinth (1986) References, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Massage, Metallic Dragon!Gilmore, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Games, Minor Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), POV Shaun Gilmore, POV Vax'ildan, Polyamory Negotiations, Possessive Vax, Self-Hatred, Shapeshifting, Smut, Spoiled Vax'ildan, Spooning, Therapy, Vax Is Trying, game of wits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: After a long day in Syngorn, Vax unwittingly summons Gilmore to the Feywild straight from his encounter with Sylas Briarwood. Making Gilmore vulnerable to a certain Lord of the Morncrown.
Relationships: Artagan/Shaun Gilmore, Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan
Series: A Glorious Retelling [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975831
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	1. Chasing the Love of These Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a toxic encounter with their father, Vax wants his daddy. Gilmore breaks the news that this will be the last time he can visit Vax outside of Whitestone.

What a strange day it had been, by turns Vox Machina’s usual gleeful, chaotic brand of fun and some of the most emotionally exhausting moments they’d experienced in months. Vax didn’t want to think about what had happened that morning, but even watching Percy sweet-talk feyrie grass couldn’t get the tense encounter with Syldor out of his head. 

Inside Scanlan’s Marvelous Mansion, Vax lay down on his bed, feeling tired--too tired to get undressed properly and prepare for sleep. It seemed to take days to get out of his armor, and Vax used the last of his strength to pull his shirt over his head. Then he collapsed into bed, his thoughts cycling like a rat on a treadmill. Had they taken the time to lock up Garmelie again? Vax could not recall. But what did it really matter? The faun had been almost entirely harmless so far, and stealing the hat for him this afternoon had been fun. 

Unable to escape his own dark ruminations, Vax decided he didn’t want to be alone right now. A distraction was called for--or rather, some pleasant companionship. “Gilmore.” Vax opened his eyes. He was feeling too drained to even get out the arcane parchment this time. “Can you come here? I’m feeling...I don’t want to be alone. Would you?” Perhaps he was becoming spoiled in that Vax could just summon his lover whenever he wanted. But what was the use of having a perk if you didn’t take advantage of it?

Vax started when there was suddenly another body sliding into bed behind him, wrapping arms around Vax and pulling him back to spoon. He hadn’t even heard Gilmore Teleport in that time. “It’s been a very long day,” Gilmore said. “Forgive me, but I’m afraid I can’t be vertical just now.”

Vax glanced back at him, only slightly annoyed that he didn’t get to be the center of attention yet. “W--did something happen?” 

“A lot and nothing happened.” Gilmore bent forward to kiss the top of Vax’ildan’s head. “But tell me how things are with you. You said you didn’t want to be alone.” He began to pet Vax, Gilmore’s long fingers glittering with jewels brushing his hair back in a way that always calmed Vax down. 

Vax rubbed the heel of his palm over one eye as though he’d been sleeping. “We saw Syldor today...our father.”

“Oh dear.” Gilmore wrapped both arms around Vax, hugging him tight. 

“He said…” Vax turned in Gilmore’s arms to face him, his long, straight hair sticking to the bedding, full of static. “He said we were interrupting his work. He was annoyed.” Vax frowned, resting his cheek against Gilmore’s hairy chest and inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. “We hadn’t seen the bastard in two years and that’s what he said to us.” 

“I’m sorry, my darling.” Once again, Gilmore’s fingers brushed back Vax’ildan’s hair, getting the strands back in order. “That must have hurt.” 

“The stupid thing is, I don’t even care,” Vax said, angrily. “But my sister, he made her cry. That bastard made Vex’ahlia cry! His own child!” 

“That sounds awful.” Gilmore held him tightly again, and Vax put his arms around Gilmore’s neck, needing the comfort. “Is she alright? Should we go check on her?” 

“Oh, she’s alright now,” Vax said, not wanting to share Gilmore _or_ let the others know Gilmore could visit him whenever he wanted. “Percival made her a baroness, and she’s been showing off her title at every opportunity since.” 

“When did he do that?” Gilmore asked, curious. 

“While Syldor was off in his study, writing us a letter of permission through the city.” 

“That sounds like he was of some use to you, at least,” Gilmore said. 

“Yes, literally the least thing he could do. Cold bastard.” Gilmore rubbed his back, and Vax snuggled into him. 

“Were you in the city long?” Gilmore asked. 

“Most of the day,” Vax said. “Turns out the little satyr wanted us to steal a hat from the High Warden, so that took some doing. It was actually fun.” 

“A hat from--alright.” For a moment, it sounded like Gilmore had been getting worked up again. “Speaking of...whatever happened to your little friend?” 

“Oh, we tricked him. Well, Percival and Kiki did. He’d said he wanted a piece of one of the Threshold Crests, and Percival asked him if any piece of threshold crest would do. Garmelie said yes, so Keyleth made him one out of Stone Shape right there, and he had to take it.”

“That’s clever of Percival,” Gilmore said. 

“Yes, I suppose,” Vax said, wondering if Gilmore thought **he** was clever or not. “But honestly, I wouldn’t have minded breaking or stealing one from the city gates. I fucking hate elves.” 

Gilmore was quiet for a few moments. “But Vax’ildan...you are half elven yourself.”

“Don’t remind me,” Vax grumped. 

Gilmore sighed. “Isn’t there anything you like about elves?” He stroked Vax’s hair, soothing.

“I like...our sister. Velora. We taught her curse words. I thought for sure that would piss Syldor off, but he just laughed.”

“What? Your austere and emotionally distant father laugh? Surely not.”

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me, but yes. We were surprised, too.” Vax rubbed his cheek against Gilmore’s chest. “Velora’s sweet. She doesn’t deserve a father like him.”

“What’s the mother like?” Gilmore asked.

“She’s alright, I guess. She’s nicer to us than fucking Syldor is.” 

Gilmore stroked Vax’s cheek with his thumb. “That’s something, at least.” 

“Maybe. Syldor said some other things, too, but. I wasn’t really listening.” 

“Things about what?” 

“Oh, just lies, I think.” He took Gilmore’s hand, idly stroking his fingers as he spoke. “Like he tried to protect us from the bulk of the rejection and ridicule we got as half elf children growing up in Syngorn--I can’t see how it could have been any worse. That he’s proud of us. What a joke.” 

“What makes you think he was joking?” Gilmore asked, brushing his lips against Vax’s cheek.

“Because you can’t treat someone as poorly as he’s treated us and care about them!” Vax said, looking up at Gilmore. 

“Some people show love in different ways...ways that don’t look like love to us,” Gilmore said carefully.

“Oh, come on!” Vax said, getting annoyed. “You’re not defending him.” 

“No,” Gilmore said, looking at some indeterminate point over Vax’s head. “Children are precious, and should be kept close to one’s heart and told every day how much we love them. But some people are broken, or come from different cultures, have different upbringings, where emotional displays are frowned upon. That’s all.”

“Well it sounds like you’re defending him,” Vax said, sullen. 

“How could I defend someone who made our dear Vex’ahlia cry?” Gilmore asked.

“Exactly!” Vax said, feeling vindicated. They were silent for some time, Gilmore just stroking Vax’s hair or his cheek as the mood softened. “Why are you so tired?” Vax asked at last in his little boy’s voice.

“Is that what you really want to ask me?” Gilmore said. 

Not really. “Will you make love to me?” Vax asked. “Gently. Just hold me and kiss me a lot?” 

Gilmore was quiet for just a beat too long. “And what will you be doing while I perform this service?” 

I’m sorry.” Vax could tell he’d messed up again. “I just--” He let his arms slip from around Gilmore’s neck. “Just nevermind.” 

“I won’t nevermind.” Gilmore kissed his jaw. “But maybe sex isn’t what you need tonight.” 

“Shut your mouth, old man,” Vax said, trying to hide a grin as he looked up at Gilmore. “Don’t need sex? What are you trying to pull?” He slid one hand over Gilmore’s hip to grip his arse. “Now that’s what I need. A nice handful of plump buttock.” 

Gilmore laughed softly and kissed his forehead. 

To make his point, Vax reached down and fumbled in Gilmore’s robes for what he wanted. Gilmore watched him, calmly. It was so weird at times like this when Gilmore refused to help him. Whatever. Vax slid down the bed and stuck his head up Gilmore’s robes instead. 

“Vax’ildan. I don’t---” Gilmore started to protest. But then Vax put his mouth on him, and Gilmore became quiet. Cupping his sack, Vax stroked his taint while he sucked him off. Gilmore groaned when Vax teased him with a finger. The more excited Gilmore became, the hotter Vax got. Soon, he was opening his breeches and stroking himself while he licked and sucked that glorious cock. Now there were three fingers pressing against Gilmore’s prostate, and his hips began to move, fucking Vax’s mouth. Vax let go of himself to focus on Gilmore, because he seemed close. From the noises he was making, Vax could tell. 

“No, don’t,” Gilmore said, patting his shoulders. “I don’t--” But Vax wasn’t stopping now. He kept going, deep-throating that glorious cock and stroking Gilmore’s A spot just right. Gilmore gasped, and Vax was rewarded with his favourite liquid. 

He drank it down, licking Gilmore clean, after. Then Vax crawled out from under Gilmore’s robe to pillow his head against Gilmore’s stomach, gazing up at him, satiated. “Thank you,” Vax beamed. 

“I can hardly say ‘you’re welcome’ after that,” Gilmore said, tugging him up so that he could hold Vax. “What’s this?” He found Vax’s wilting erection and took it in hand. 

Vax’s eyes closed. “I just like drinking your come. That’s all.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Gilmore bit him, and Vax sighed happily.

“More.” The teeth against his throat felt good. Gilmore’s teeth could be quite sharp when he wanted. Vax began to frot against Gilmore’s grip while his teeth left marks on Vax’s skin. He scratched his nails down Gilmore’s back, annoyed that he wasn’t shirtless. “Take it off,” Vax pleaded, trying to push the robe from his shoulders. 

Gilmore quickly shrugged out of his robe before running his fingers teasingly down Vax’s abdomen to his pelvis. He bit Vax’s shoulder and then returned to biting his neck, his beard tickling. “Ohh, I like this,” Vax said, running his fingers through Gilmore’s chest hair. He played with the nipple ring, making Gilmore gasp, and gently pulled Gilmore’s hair back in a ponytail so his braids wouldn’t get tangled in his necklaces again. “Gilmore?” 

“Yes, my love?” Gilmore leaned up to lick his earlobe. 

“Fuck me?” 

Gilmore paused, laughing softly. “You’re lucky I’m still awake at all at this point, my darling boy.” 

“Not fair,” Vax whined. He’d just been getting warmed up.

“I know,” Gilmore humored him. “It’s a rough day when you find out your old man has limits after all.”

“But what happened?” Vax demanded, petulant. “If you’re this tired, I feel like I deserve to know.” 

“All in due time,” Gilmore said, stroking his back. Vax could tell Gilmore was still humoring him. 

“Well I guess you’d better go back, then, if you’re so tired,” Vax said, feeling petulant. 

“Must I?” Gilmore asked. “The barrier will go up over Whitestone soon, and when it does, it’s unlikely I’ll be able to visit you like this again.” 

“What?” Vax looked up at him. “Why not?” 

“Because, my love, it’s a great magical working, and all of my concentration and power will likely be required to maintain it.” 

“Oh. You can’t just cast it and leave?” Vax asked. 

“...no. It’s not like casting Pass Without a Trace. It takes my energy, as well as my focus.” 

“Well. Is that safe?” Vax asked. He hadn’t realized the city shield was such a big deal.

“Likely not, but the alternative is troubling. The people of this city are more important than I am.” Gilmore offered his usual cheerful smile, but he sounded resigned.

“Well, I don’t think so,” Vax said, indignant. There was only one Gilmore. Peasants and townsfolk could be replaced. “Personally. But I’m sure Percival would disagree.” Out of spite, if for no other reason.

“That’s kind of you to say.” Gilmore sounded like he didn’t believe Vax.

“I’m not just saying it, I mean it!” Vax said. “I need my Gilmore alive and well. We’re only talking about the possibility of an attack. Why should you deplete your resources over a possibility?” The more he thought about it, the more it bothered Vax.

“Your concern warms my heart,” Gilmore said, sounding moved. Had Vax not done a good enough job of showing Gilmore what he meant to him? Again?

“Fuck that.” Vax leaned back to look Gilmore in the eye. “If this is the last time you’ll be able to do anything other than shield the city, I want you to stay. All night. Please?” He reached up and twirled his finger through one of Gilmore’s gold hoop earrings, trying his best to look cute.

“Well…” Gilmore kissed him gently. “Because you asked so nicely.”

“Is it really the last time you can come visit?” Vax hoped Gilmore was just teasing him, or testing him as he sometimes did. 

“It’s quite likely. Not guaranteed, but…” 

Vax put his arms around Gilmore’s waist and snuggled close. “But I like having you here.”

“As do I.” Gilmore slid fingers through Vax’ildan’s hair. “But you know, my love, if you come home to Whitestone, you can be with me there. And my ability to Teleport won’t be an issue.” 

“I know,” Vax sighed. “But we have to keep getting the Vestiges. This won’t be the last one.” Vax rubbed his cheek against Gilmore’s shoulder. 

“Perhaps you can stay for longer than a day next time?” Gilmore asked. “You‘ve hardly seen my new home.”

“Mm,” Vax agreed. “So many rooms in that big house we haven’t fucked in yet.” 

Gilmore smirked. “My thoughts exactly.” His fingers traced a line down Vax’s spine, pausing at the small of his back to rub teasing circles. Vax couldn’t help but wriggle a little. “Why don’t we just rest together? There doesn’t have to be marathon sex _every_ time I visit.” 

“Are you sure?” Vax asked, disappointed. 

Gilmore chuckled. “I’m sure,” he said gently, continuing to pet Vax’s back. 

“Maybe you can even stay until breakfast tomorrow,” Vax suggested. “How do you feel about chicken?” 

Gilmore took his hand. “Have you finally chosen to accept me then? As the other half of your other half?” 

Vax blinked. “I don’t know what that means. If you’re asking--I still haven’t talked with Keyleth. But if she told you it’s alright, then. I want to keep seeing you like this.”

Gilmore sighed. “But ‘like this’ may be the last time for months. Will you have me in public, too, for all the world to see?” 

Vax ducked his head. That was scary. But whose ridicule was he really dreading here? His sister’s? She already acted like Gilmore was his boyfriend. Scanlan? He had no room to talk. Grog? He’d taken a shine to Gilmore himself, and would have no leg to stand on. Percy? Vax didn’t give a shit what Percy thought of him. Pike, then? No, Vax knew Pike would love him no matter what. And she loved Gilmore. So it must be Keyleth he was worried about, then. If he was out in public with Gilmore the way they were here...she would see that Vax was much more intimate with Gilmore than he was with her. So what was the answer? Become more intimate with Keyleth so that things would be more fair? And then it wouldn’t matter? 

Probably Gilmore was right; Vax should just talk to her. But talking was HARD for Vax. 

“Your silence is its own kind of answer,” Gilmore said, letting go of Vax and lying back on the pillow. 

“No, that’s...! I was just thinking,” Vax said, reaching for Gilmore. “I guess I’m just...embarrassed for lying to Keyleth all this time.” 

Gilmore glanced at him. “Lying? How?” 

“I…” Vax cringed a little. “I never told her I made up with you. She...probably thinks we’re still broken up.” 

Gilmore raised an eyebrow. “Even after the debacle with Grog?” 

“Welllllll...she can be a little clueless about certain things.” 

Gilmore pursed his lips. “You should probably explain to her then, or just kiss me in front of your friends. That would likely be evidence enough, to show instead of tell.” 

“No! I’d better talk to her first.” If Vax just started being...like he was with Gilmore in front of her, she’d think he’d chosen Gilmore over her for sure. 

“Very well.” From Gilmore’s tone, Vax could tell he wasn’t happy. 

He tucked his body against Gilmore’s, clinging. “I’ll do it,” Vax said. “I will.” Gilmore didn’t reply, he just petted Vax in silence. “Do you want me to rub your back again?” Vax asked, trying to work his way back into Gilmore’s good graces. 

“That would be lovely.” He rolled over, and Vax got to work, rubbing the knots out of his shoulders first. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Vax said. “If you can’t come visit anymore.” He realized he’d been taking Gilmore’s visits for granted. 

“I’ll be waiting for you at home,” Gilmore said. But that didn’t help Vax’ildan’s mood any. He worked until he could tell Gilmore had fallen asleep; he really did seem to be exhausted. Vax curled up next to him and pulled the sheet up, worried Scanlan might spy on them again. Knowing it might be the last time he would be able to fall asleep in Gilmore’s arms, Vax snuggled in close. Sleeping without Gilmore there was always harder for him. Sleeping next to Keyleth wasn’t the same.


	2. Far from the Ones Who Abandoned You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artagan wants a dragon for his very own, and Gilmore is exhausted and very low on spells.

Gilmore hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the mansion quite so quickly. Or soundly. But the day’s events had really wiped him out. He awoke at the witching hour, an old habit Gilmore hadn’t known his body still remembered. 

Vax was fast asleep, having kicked off the sheets and squirmed around in his sleep to spoon Gilmore. For a moment, Gilmore actually thought of staying. He was loath to leave the comfort of his darling boy’s arms, but Allura would be expecting him back to cast the barrier today. And there was that business of exorcising the house left to do before Gilmore was bogged down with maintaining the barrier. 

But...Vax had invited him to join the children for morning-after breakfast for the first time. And that was an occasion to be celebrated. Of course, later Vax had said he wanted to speak to Keyleth first before they behaved as lovers in public, so...bit of a mixed message there. 

Gilmore decided to give him a break. Hopefully Vax would invite him to stay for breakfast again, as he’d already done it this once. And if Vax had changed his mind after he’d made the offer earlier, well, this gave him an out. 

After a few hours’ rest, Gilmore supposed he was ready as he ever would be to face the day ahead. Placing a kiss on Vax’ildan’s forehead, he slid out of bed and donned his robes. He did not bother to fix his hair or makeup, anticipating climbing right back into his own bed in Whitestone until Allura arrived to drag him away or some other message came, telling him it was time. 

It was that much worse, then, when Gilmore felt his Teleport spell go sideways, depositing him not back in his new home in Whitestone, but into some sort of pocket dimension that smelled of the Feywild. Gilmore knew he hadn’t cast his spell incorrectly. This felt like an interception. Having recent experience with interference from outside forces, Gilmore withdrew his cane and took in his surroundings, preparing to do combat with whatever it was had brought him here. 

“Well, aren’t we feeling defensive,” a sly voice spoke from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

“Funny thing, when someone else interrupts my casting,” Gilmore said. “I tend to take it personally.” The space seemed to be nothing more than a blank void, and he couldn’t see or smell anyone else in it with him, which was not a good sign. Gilmore was getting the sneaking suspicion that this pocket dimension was actually a cage. 

“Well, I guess it **was** personal,” the voice admitted.

“Imagine that,” Gilmore said, forcing himself to set the tip of the cane on the ground and assume a less threatening posture. “I beg your pardon, have we met?” Drawing out the villain’s exposition would help Gilmore calculate what he was up against. 

“Not yet,” the voice said. “I’ve been admiring you from afar.”

“Are you shy?” Gilmore asked, placing both hands on the unicorn-shaped handle of his cane. “Or self-conscious?” 

He could hear a devious smile in the voice now. “Neither, actually.” 

“Come now,” Gilmore said, reaching out with his other-senses to test the barriers of the space. “Surely you didn’t bring me here just to stare.”

“You’re right,” the voice purred. “My menagerie has always been more...interactive.” 

Menagerie? Gilmore had been in the Feywild mere hours, protected by the construct of Scanlan’s mansion, and still he had managed to attract the attention of a powerful feyrie. Gilmore did not appreciate the amount of bad luck involved to beat the odds against that occurring. 

The barriers of this pocket dimension were solid, a testament to the strength of his host’s magic. Gilmore continued to search for a way out, doing his best to remain calm in an increasingly disturbing circumstance.

“You don’t seem very upset,” the voice said, disappointed. “Does that mean you’ll join my menagerie willingly?”

“I have yet to hear an offer,” Gilmore said, pausing to get himself together for the battle of wits ahead. “Moreover, I would never accept an offer from someone who refuses to meet me.” It seemed no coincidence that a feyrie had managed to find him inside the mansion. Gilmore had one guess as to his would-be captor’s identity. It was a long shot, but he chose to go with his instinct. “Garmelie. Show yourself.” 

“Well that’s not fair,” the voice said, shrinking down to something that sounded more harmless. A small satyr appeared a few yards away in the chamber-sized space. “It’s rude to use the power of names without warning someone first.” The faun looked down, unhappy, touching the tips of his index fingers together. 

“Then we’re even,” Gilmore said. “It’s rude to intercept someone else’s Teleport spell.” 

The satyr shrugged. “Manners are for mortals.” 

Gilmore smiled. “Right back at you.”

“Oh, you’re clever!” Garmelie’s voice went up an octave in his excitement. He pranced closer to Gilmore with a clatter of cloven hooves. “Clever _and_ handsome. That’s an enjoyable combination.” 

“Am I supposed to feel flattered?” Gilmore asked. “If you’re aiming to cultivate my affection, you’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”

“Cultivate your affection?” The satyr’s eyes sparkled darkly. “Is that a possibility? Oo, that sounds like a challenge!” He clapped his little hands, prancing in place. “You and I are going to have _such_ fun together.”

Gilmore sighed. “Are you trying to seduce me or kidnap me? Either way, you’re boring me.”

The creature scowled at him for a moment. “Metallic dragons are usually so boring. Rules, rules, rules. Order. Justice.” Garmelie’s lower lip jutted out in a childlike pout.

Gilmore was truly frightened. For Garmelie to be able to see through his construct to his true form, he must be even more powerful than Gilmore had guessed. Which meant...nothing good. And the longer Gilmore remained in the Feywild, the weaker he became. His magic did not belong here, and Gilmore’s ability to cast off-plane, what few spells he’d arrived with, were bleeding away by the minute. 

“But not you.” Garmelie came closer. “You’re more... neutral. Thoughtful. You see the world as it is. But you’re still so shiny. I like that.” 

“You don’t know me,” Gilmore said. “Are you sure you’re not just reading what you want to see onto a pleasing shape?” 

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” the satyr smirked up at him. “I do find your shape pleasing.” Garmelie tilted his head. “Why waste your time on a mortal, when you could do so much better?” 

“I presume you’re about to offer an alternative,” Gilmore said, dryly. At least Garmelie did not seem to be an accomplished enchanter. If this fleece jacket with horns was the best glamour the feyrie had to offer, Gilmore might escape this predicament yet. 

“Perhaps.” Suddenly there was an archfey standing where the satyr had been, its pointed chin and feral green eyes mere inches from Gilmore’s face. He suppressed the urge to hiss. Gilmore would have gladly gone his entire life without ever meeting another one of the destructive, self-obsessed fey nobility. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” the archfey said. “Your boy’s a pretty one. They both are--seem to take after their father. But really, when it comes down to it, mortals are so very boring.” It brushed its mane of unruly orange curls back in a vain attempt to put them in order. “After a few decades, there’s not much fun left in them.”

Its summation was chilling. And utterly in keeping with the other fey nobles Gilmore had met. “What’s your point?” he asked, doing his best to look bored. 

“My point...” the archfey smirked, attempting to walk behind Gilmore but failing, because Gilmore turned with it, refusing to be flanked by an enemy, “...is that your talents are wasted on the unappreciative.”

“My talents,” Gilmore repeated. The bloody feyrie. It must have spied on him with Vax. Which meant…

“Yes.” The archfey grinned. “Don’t get me wrong, such activities do little for me after all this time, however...you’re a natural.” Gilmore refused to accept the compliment. He also refused to believe that there was a fey in existence who was disinterested in sex. That would certainly be a first. Far more believable that Garmelie was lying.

“Well, if my talents would do little for you, then I suppose I’m free to go,” Gilmore said. “I’m glad we had this chat. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“No.” It shook its head. “I don’t think so. I want to get to know you better. Why don’t you stay awhile?” A chair appeared out of thin air, and knocked Gilmore’s legs out from under him, forcing him to sit. 

“Must you be so rough?” Gilmore asked, annoyed. 

“Oh, I can be gentle,” the archfey spoke from behind Gilmore’s ear. “So gentle, given the proper motivation.” 

“I have no desire to enter into any sort of relationship with you,” Gilmore said, offering the bored blink of a displeased cat. “Gentle or otherwise.”

“You might change your mind,” the archfey said. 

“You will not change my mind by keeping me here against my will,” Gilmore told it. “I’m afraid it takes someone more skilled in the art of seduction than you to pique my interest.”

“Oh? Like a bratty _othlir_ boy?” the archfey asked, strutting away with its arms crossed. “Or perhaps he’s just more to your taste?” The creature disappeared, and another form appeared at Gilmore’s side: a scantily clad elven youth with waves of long copper hair and bruised green eyes that pleaded with Gilmore. “I could wear a different form, if you would find it more to your liking…”

Well, damn. It had caught Gilmore off-guard with this one. But it took more than a pretty boy to gain his favor. And there was still the issue of Garmelie’s repugnant personality and morally bankrupt character. “Go away,” Gilmore told it, deadpan, doing his best to appear disinterested. 

“Don’t be like that,” the Garmelie-boy said, attempting to climb into Gilmore’s lap. 

“No. None of that,” Gilmore said, pushing him off. 

The grin that spread over the fey’s face was far too wide. “I _thought_ it would work,” it said, pleased, moving back to stand before Gilmore and rest its hands on Gilmore’s knees. “Come, shiny dragon. Play with me.” It pouted. “I get so dreadfully bored.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Gilmore told it. “You have my refusal. Are you going to let me go?” 

“Do you _want_ to be let go?” the creature asked, sliding around to breathe into Gilmore’s ear. 

Gilmore swatted at it like a fly. “Yes. Are you deaf? Yes, I’d like to go now, please.” He could only hold back the panic for so long.

“Take some time,” Garmelie urged. “Think about it. Those mortals don’t appreciate you. But _I_ would. I’ve always wanted a dragon. I could steal you treasure...pretty things...anything you want. 

“They don’t care about you. They probably don’t even know you’re missing. And when was the last time they stole something for you? I bet never. Would they even notice if you were gone? Would they care? How often would you really see them if you left it up to them to decide?” 

That hurt. Before the fall of Emon, Vox Machina had only come to see Gilmore once a month or so. But that didn’t mean they did not care about him. They had sought him out when the city fell. Not the first night, but...eventually. 

“You see?” Garmelie said, watching him. “I’m right. You know I’m right. If you stay here with me, I’ll take care of you. Treat you like you deserve. I would cherish you.”

“You don’t even know me,” Gilmore repeated. And if he wanted to be treated like a prized possession, Gilmore had always had that option available to him. It did not appeal. After a few centuries, no amount of devotion could prevent it from becoming suffocating. And fey were not known for their loyalty or devotion.

“But I want to know you,” the Garmelie-boy breathed, leaning toward him, uncomfortably close. “Please? I’ll give you everything that you want.”

“I want my freedom,” Gilmore said. “Will you give me that?” 

Garmelie kept going, as if Gilmore had not spoken. “Just fear me.” It leaned close to Gilmore until their brows were almost touching. But it wasn’t frightening. If anything, Gilmore wanted to thread those unruly eyebrows. They were like small furry creatures perched on Garmelie’s face. “Love me.” The archfey leaned away, embracing itself melodramatically. “Do as I say, and I will be your _slave_.” 

Gilmore glared at him. 

“Alright, then you can be _my_ slave.”

“I despise that word,” Gilmore hissed. “No one with good intentions has ever used that word.”

“I can make you love that word,” Garmelie said, reaching out to touch Gilmore’s hair.

That was the last straw. “Unlikely.” Gilmore took up his cane and cracked Garmelie across the jaw, making sure to strike steel rod-first.

Garmelie disappeared behind his chair, but from its outraged scream, Gilmore knew he’d hurt it. “Bad dragon!” it shouted. “Bad! Dragon! Why did you hurt me? I just wanted to love you.”

Suddenly both chair and archfey were gone, and there was a bronze collar around Gilmore’s neck. “Is this what you call love?” he asked, jaw clenching. “Is this how you take care of someone you cherish?” These creatures were all the same. They were incapable of empathy. They felt no real affection. Just naked avarice.

The collar completely blocked Gilmore’s arcane abilities, but Garmelie had forgotten one important fact about dragons. Gilmore placed his hands on the collar and summoned his internal fire, heating the metal until it was molten and malleable in his fingers. 

Quickly, before Garmelie realized its mistake, Gilmore tore off the collar, using the last of his rapidly dwindling arcane power to cast Teleport. He phased out of the cage just as he heard the archfey begin to scream behind him. “No, no, no! Not fair! You’re **my** dragon now! Come back! I’m lonely!”

Gilmore apparated into the binding circle in his conservatory back home, sagging to his knees with relief. He curled into a ball, focusing on his breath until he could calm down.


End file.
